


amalgamated

by klismaphilia



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Cults, Declarations Of Love, Friends to Lovers, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marking, Master/Servant, Older Man/Younger Man, Self-Acceptance, Tragic Romance, lovemaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 19:58:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8115529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klismaphilia/pseuds/klismaphilia
Summary: Passion is the great defeater of men, and the great harbinger of realization. It takes a single word to change a person's world: Love.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FullMetamorphosis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullMetamorphosis/gifts).



> This is part of a longer universe idea I have that TJ and I may begin writing... not really sure how I got this many words on something meant to be a pwp, but hey. Little plot I guess? Sorry for how flowery it sounds.

“I was wondering if you wished to talk,” came the whisper, low and sultry, a clear trace of regality to the tone, though the underlying voice was almost venomous. Still, there had never been any methods in determining whether Andronikos meant himself to be taken as a threat or not; even with the claims so often made, of blood and fear and the melancholic glory that he expected his brethren to wear with pride, there had never been a hint of detectable emotion within his words.

 

Even the cultured lilt of his tone couldn’t disguise the callous demeanor underneath.

 

“My lord,” the younger man continued, as he turned his head to look up to Andronikos, his lips pursed in an expression of blankness, unreadable to even the most skeptical of eyes. Venereth’s back straightened, his hands at his sides, staring ahead of him for a moment without blinking. “Was my comment so infuriating as to rouse your anger?”

 

“It isn’t anger, child,” Andronikos answered, shaking his head, reaching out just enough to grace a pale cheek with the briefest of touches, caressing the smooth, unblemished skin as Venereth’s eyes wander over his body questioningly, his lips drawing back into a smile as he nods, once.

 

“I… I understand. I was rather hoping that…” a pause, frowning. “That we would have a chance to discuss things in private. Your comments… they provoked my thoughts, my lord. I-I was wondering if… if the rest of the family has the same context denoting passion. I have never heard words spoken with such perception to detail…” he looked away, nervously. “Forgive me, Andronikos. I was purely musing.”

 

“You are welcome to muse, Venereth,” Andronikos answered, his hand sliding around Venereth’s thin, almost scrawny shoulders, tugging him against his chest and allowing him to take a seat on the bed, the dimly lit room cast in a warm, orange glow from the candlelight. “You are aware that I have always enjoyed our talks. What questions might I answer for you?”

 

“Questions are not always answerable,” the teenager replied, an impassive smile gracing his face, looking up to the older man with eyes that glinted in eagerness and anxiety. “But then again, neither are you. You have spoken such things about the human condition… our anger, our violence, our surrender… that it would be difficult to turn away from. Yet even that is not… particularly the root of my strain, my lord.”

 

“Do you wish for contact again, my acolyte?” A small, minute chuckle, as Venereth’s cheeks brighten, slightly, his eyes averting. “You have always enjoyed the closeness of others, even when I first met you. So trusting… though there is a certain comfort in being held.”

 

“I do not wish to be held, sir,” Venereth responded, nervously, voice toeing the line between despondence and frustration. “My mind has taken a route I am unfamiliar with. I yearn for the joining of my mind and body with that of another…” he pulled back, shoulders tense and rigid. 

 

“There is no shame in that,” came the simple answer, a shrug. “You are old enough to know what you want. And I have always considered you to be one of my closest companions.” A smile. “Who is it, Venereth? Is it Phaedra? You two were particularly close when you arrived here- do you need the advice of a friend on how you should go about expressing your feelings?”

 

“It isn’t Phaedra, sir,” Venereth stared at Andronikos, eyes smoldering as he reached out, slowly, allowing his arms to circle the twenty-eight year old’s shoulders, desiring. “It is you. After I took that run a few weeks ago… my mind was unwinding. I know that many of our brethren think touch is to be neglected… but my mind craves this contact more than it has craved anything before.” He paused, uncertainly, as Andronikos pulled away. “My lord…?”

 

The man stood, his back turned to the younger, uncertain of what words he could conjure up to resolve the tension that had accumulated in the air. His face felt hot, though his hands were clammy, cold, as if he could not find the strength to unwind.

 

“I had been hoping you would say differently,” a bitter, rueful laugh. “My eyes have often found you amongst our family as well… I have seen you undo yourself on missions, have seen the blood you seem to have no qualms about spilling, and it worries me. I feel as if you are overwhelmed by your desires- bright, yes. But easily taken.”

 

“I’d not be _ taken  _ by anyone else,” Venereth hissed. “My mind is yours! We are connected, you and I, whenever you would allow me to sit in your chambers, to discuss my troubles with you… to show you my scars. The addiction has not been purged from my blood, but I am more alive with you than I am with any other.” He was standing, dark hair wild, clothing disheveled. “Andronikos. Listen to me.  _ I crave you.” _

 

_ “You crave this,”  _ was the response, as hands fisted in the younger’s shirt, pulling him closer until they were eye-to-eye, breaths mingled. Venereth swallowed, his throat seeming to grow dry, quivering at the unexpected aggression as a hand raised to brace itself against Andronikos’ arm, stilling. 

 

_ “ _ I do not… do not crave this anymore than you. I’ve had more that enough time wasted in running drugs or throwing myself at someone for their opportunities. I came here to make something worthwhile of myself and I have… I have discovered serenity through  _ you.”  _ He grasped for words, laughing, raw and unyielding. “My head is always aching. My- it… it rings with everything I have lost and everything I once desired, the brunt of my failure… I assumed it would go away, but nothing is quiet unless…”

 

The grip on his shirt lessened, Andronikos relinquishing the hold he had on the darker figure, looking down at him with a surprise that resonated with unquelled lust, something that could not be kept in the recesses of his conscience anymore…

 

“I wanted you too, Venereth,” he admitted. “You are my friend, my brother, my apprentice, my confidant, my partner, my…”

 

“ _ Save your words.”  _ Their mouths crushed against each other within a brief moment, as Venereth’s hand slid to grip the back of his boss’s neck, mouth sliding open in acceptance, allowing him to explore as he wished, fingers tangling in grey cloth that he nearly tore at, a slight sob parting from his throat without admittance. “Have me as I want you to.”

 

“You’re barely of age-”   
  


“Are you saying something so worthless in the grand scheme of our existence would stop you?” A blunt chuckle, as Andronikos found his knees hitting the edge of the bed again, half tumbling onto it while Venereth kneeled over him, sitting atop his lower body with hips fervently grinding against his, the present stickiness of the other’s arousal clear against the fabric of his pants. “For all you know,” Venereth continued, “I have lived countless lives before. How old am I really, Andronikos? Older than you? Than your father bef-”

 

“That’s becoming a real turn off, kid,” he answered, knee sliding upward to nudge Venereth’s thighs apart, rolling the dark-haired man over until he was lying sprawled out against the mattress, face tinged a bright color that seemed to suit him both too well and not at all. It was… “Delicious,” the man mused, slightly, brushing a lock of black hair behind a pierced ear.

 

“Do not grow sentimental with me, sir,” Venereth muttered, jokingly, as fingers slid into his mentor’s hair, pulling roughly on the locks and tugging his head up slightly, their eyes matching, a dark gaze shrouded in black fixed with clear, open green that swirled in depths of mystery. His leg hooked around the back of Andronikos’ thigh, trying to grab hold of the heat he emanated, create more of the sweet, sweet friction between their still modest forms.

 

_ Not modest any longer,  _ Venereth told himself, his hands finding the waist of his mentor’s jeans, sliding them away from the cult leader’s hips, his fingers fumbling to press along the crease of thigh and hip, cup his hardening cock gently, a smirk growing bolder on his visage. He nearly jumped in delight at the feeling of a hand teasing along his spine, over the sensitive skin of his lower back that seemed to tremble at the very notion of contact, realizing for the first time exactly how  _ bare  _ his legs were. The tie of his robe had come undone, the thin, black linen hanging off his frame as he allowed Andronikos to peel it away further, a cold sweat causing his neck to tingle the second a thumb rubbed at the tattoo lining the side of it.

 

“Birthday present,” he affirmed. “I… modeled it after your own.”

 

“It’s lovely…” Andronikos chuckled. “Let me guess: Sedona encouraged it?” At the guilty look on the other’s face, his lips met Venereth’s cheek, pushing back his hair. “Stop forging deals with children, Venereth.”

 

“But my lord,” he feigned a frown. “You know how I love to irritate you.” As if to prove a further point, the fingers teasing up his honey-shaded hair slipped, curling around the side of his neck and throwing over his shoulders to anchor himself better-  _ this is real, you are real, this is your true self. How long have you been yearning? Your body aches for him more than you can describe… your being craves…  _

 

He could smell the arousal permeating the air, could feel the tip of his own length weeping, slick, white liquid dribbling down the inside of one of his thighs, and- and  _ by the gods, whatever beings there were,  _ when Andronikos wrapped a hand around him, Venereth nearly  _ wept.  _ His legs parted, sliding open as best they could, presenting as much of himself as he could, too eager and too heady,  _ after all this time, he is mine, he’ll always be mine, my God- _

 

“Something tells me that you’ve dreamt about this for awhile now,” the older man commented, flicking his cheek as Venereth’s dazed eyes watched him, swallowing harshly.

 

“Something tells me you might know what you’re talking about too well,” the younger responded in turn, surging upward to grab hold of him, eyes pleading, nearly keening with each touch he was given, each caress or tug that made him quiver with satisfaction. “ _ I need you to take me.”  _ He hisses, more authoritative than ever, body winding itself around his superior, clinging as if he could meld into his bones and disappear.

 

“You’re growing impatient,” Andronikos murmured, kissing his forehead once more as Venereth squirmed, evidently not liking the teasing lilt of the conversation. “Impatience is unbecoming of a member of our family.”

 

_ “Just fuck me already,”  _ was the aggravated answer, as Venereth sank teeth into his own lip. “I’ve waited- waited too long.”

 

And there it was- a shocked sigh, a strangled whine that echoed through the stillness of the surreal moment they’d rendered themselves victims of, the moment that Andronikos began to coat his fingers with a slick oil that had been left on the table beside the small bed, sliding one against the other’s crease as if promising. Venereth gasped, his thighs gladly surrendering control to him, opening as much as he felt should be allowed as the first digit slid home, breaching him, and- and  _ oh,  _ it was…

 

“How strange,” he replied, furrowing his brow a bit, uncertain on whether or not he should allow himself to admit the sensation had an odd pleasantry to it. He pushed himself down further, wordlessly requesting  _ more,  _ the second finger quirking itself as it pushed to settle beside the first, and-  _ yes,  _ that was… the way they curled, pressing up against something, made him nearly go  _ blind,  _ rapidly arching as a feathery moan was blessed to the other’s ears.

 

“I would imagine it takes an acquired taste,” Andronikos noted, shrugging slightly, his other hand steadying along Venereth’s hips to keep him from bucking, push away the excitement clearly injecting its way into his body.

 

“ _ No-”  _ Venereth answered automatically, shuddering, spine curving as he bent like a bow from the way his nerves lit on fire and burned out before him.  _ “It’s good…”  _ He stretched his legs out more, rim tensing and clutching tightly upon each movement of the intrusion, and- and  _ it’s not enough for me, not enough to fill, to please, reckless abandon, my mind is damned- _

 

And he bucked, the older cultist pressing him down with a soothing kiss along his sternum, a bite to his collarbone, readjusting the angle as fingers slid to his cock, to pump it carefully, slowly, in time with the push of his fingers. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

 

“Could never hurt  _ me,”  _ Venereth bit back, blissed out in his voice. “Been thinking of this… this exact moment for so long. Thinking of our entwined limbs, embraced in flame of body and mind. My head… it feels… hazy now. As if you’ve purged my plague…” A shrill cry, loud, heaving breaths following the breach of sound the second the fingers pulled out, Venereth’s hands trembling as they tangled into thin bedsheets, head tilted back in acceptance. It was a permission to mark, being bared like a submissive animal, and so ready for his master, his brother, his  _ lover  _ to do as he wished… “Now, please. I-I won’t ask again…!”

 

It took barely a moment for hands to hook around the underside of his thighs, hiking legs up further with a low, uncertain groan as Andronikos glanced to the man lying prostrate beneath him, aura warm and radiant with youth and desire. His mouth found soft skin, nimble fingers dancing over unblemished angles and dusty pink nipples, wary of accepting his own lust, his own… absurd  _ need  _ to take this precious, precious love of his…

 

“You won’t have to,” he answered, and with that, there was a ripple of lost focus, lost breath and insanity, that slid between both of their minds, rooting them in place as Andronikos began to push himself into Venereth’s waiting heat, stunned at how easily it accepted the intrusion. He was  _ tight,  _ tighter than most of the women he’d been with, as few as they were, with alabaster flesh bathed in bronze, the sheen of sweat glistening, his unstable noises muted until Andronikos grasped his chin with long fingers and tilted it up, until Venereth could heave a breath of relief and allow himself to tangle around the object of his fantasies once more,  _ loved. _

 

“My desire… m-my passion…” he murmured. “I want you to use me like a toy. I will be a mere vassal, anything you ask of me, I will give until I am no more, my love, I am yours and only yours-!” Venereth’s nails sunk into light skin, drawing lines of red into the canvas of his body, painting with marks that would last for nights after. He felt Andronikos pull back, thoughts leaving him as he cursed his own wanton need,  _ don’t make him regret this, regret me-  _ before he was  _ slamming  _ back in, buried deep within the nineteen year old’s body, his own figure bending and contorting to present himself to his lord,  _ however you wish to have me, just fuck me, just claim me, just love me. _

 

_ “I do,”  _ Andronikos answered, as clearly as if he could read his friend’s mind, their foreheads bumping as he began to take a greater pace, sinking into the tight embrace of Venereth’s body, yielding, making sure to draw back as languidly as he could, the pulsating feel within his dick growing to accumulate as sparks that flew throughout his body, Venereth’s muscles tensing and holding him in a grasp that was unrivaled, slick and needy and at the prime for being taken. “ _ I love you, Violan.” _

 

It’s his fucking  _ name-  _ not his persona, or his self without himself, but his  _ given name,  _ from birth- and the thought surges through Venereth’s body like a coarse lightning, shocking him and making him shake, head tilting up and hands grasping more and more aimlessly at his partner, wanting him so close he’ll never leave, so close they’ll join completely, lose themselves in each other’s arms until the end of days…

 

And he’s thrusting so brusquely, so deafeningly fast that all Venereth can hear are the whispers of his name and the sounds of his own wordless breaths, moans, cries for  _ more, please, more,  _ as Andronikos presses against the spot that burns so brightly, makes him clench greedily and go rigid, wailing in pleasure as each thrust hits his prostate in a way to draw white through his head, make everything burn from the emptiness and the blankness and- and  _ this is love, this is all I’ve never known, all I wanted to see.  _ He’s shuddering and his walls are so tight, milking his lover’s cock with the obsession of a mindless thing, reveling in this devotion, and…

 

“ _ I love you, I love you, my Andronikos, please-”  _ it cut off, abruptly, the bursting sensation spilling through every space in his form, shaking and drowning in the static and coming undone. He was bursting with the exquisite feel of being wrapped in another’s arms, the praise hitting his ears from somewhere too far off…

 

_ “You’re beautiful, so beautiful, my precious Venereth, Violan, I’m sorry I could never find the words…!” _

 

A shudder, pulsing through Andronikos’ back, spilling in the form of release that filled his partner, kept him full and solid, even as he twitched around him once more and his legs spread, offering, offering  _ anything he wanted…  _ “A-are you alright…?”

 

A moan of surrealness, as if Venereth was suddenly unable to comprehend their reality, eyes still clouded with fog. “Y-yes… yeah. I-I’m… so  _ sated,  _ my lord. So- so…”

 

“ _ Loved.”  _ Andronikos finished, rolling them onto their sides, so that Venereth is in his arms, around his body, staring into his face before his eyelids flutter shut and his body grows still once more.

 

“Yes…” an unsteady breath. “Is it wrong that I’d prefer you not to pull away?”

 

Venereth trembled, exhausted, tucking his face against his master’s chest, allowing his eyes to slip shut as dark hair fell across his face, his breathing mellowed, evening out from the bliss. His hands grasp to the older’s shoulders with an intensity that is tinged in franticness. A hand fell to grasp his hair, sliding around the base of his head to cup it and allow him better space to relax, soft breathing growing louder in his ears.

 

“You may stay like this,” Andronikos noted, as Venereth’s leg curled over his hip, ass gripping to his cock a little more insistently as the teenager nodded, sighing.

 

“Thank you, my lord…” tears were leaking from his eyes, down flushed cheeks and over swollen lips, clinging to the skin as they painted the route with wet trails of salt and sorrow. “I am relieved… relieved that you allow me to be yours. You have shown me what it means… to feel truly at peace.”

* * *

 

Time passed slowly, caught in each other’s arms, bodies so melded and so joined that moving would be an impossibility without the permission of the other. Venereth’s contrite, unyielding gasps for breath continued to be the only remnant of humanity between them, for it felt more exalting to be in a lover’s embrace, entangled, than anything else ever had. Andronikos’ hand would slide along his partner’s back, thumbing at the creases of his bones and the extension of his spine, gently kneading circles against the tender flesh whenever the faintest sound would escape the young man’s lips.

 

It was a moment cemented in history, for them both. For now, there were two very different things between them: the first, of course, was simple. Venereth was no longer a virgin. The second was far more complex- their spirits seemed to be joined, singing in a harmonious melody that could cure the morose aura they were so afflicted with. But as with all things, there was not as much time to reminisce as there should have been; the first flickers of light were beginning to pass through the cracks in the cement, the grate above their heads, streams of heaven filtering into the dank underground, a truly lovely sight.

 

“Only by our joining could something glow in this world,” Venereth mumbled, tiredly, still lost in a daze, a trance of sorts, sleep clinging to his eyes as he leaned forward to kiss Andronikos tiredly, his own hands caught in between their bodies, giving himself over.

 

“There was a glow before,” Andronikos replied in kind. “I wonder if you were simply unable to see it.” A long sigh. “Venereth, we need to talk.”

 

“Talk as you see fit, my lord. I am yours to command, as with all of your acolytes.”

 

“I am worried about you.” Fingers traced over gaunt ribs, defined angles of his body, lingering along his chin with a care that could hardly be rivaled. “You let yourself go too easily. You give into your emotions without thought, and you surrender yourself to those you are close to. You favor them above yourself… and to erase your pain…” his fingers brushed scars along pale thighs, the porcelain skin now shaded with red in the luminescence of the room. “I have seen your scars.”

 

“I’ve had no choice,” a pause, a frown. “I do not favor others above myself. I favor my bonds… I favor loyalty. You, of all people, know that.”

 

“I am too aware,” a shuddering sigh. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore than you already do. Being in a partnership like this-”

 

“You don’t have to preach to me. I’m well aware of where my loyalties lie. Well aware of… my heart, or what remains of it. It beats for you, Andronikos.”

 

And then, the raven-haired man was throwing a leg over Andronikos’ hips, straddling his waist with thighs molding to his hips, hugging them, robe a disarray as it hung still across his shoulders, loose and open, marks lining his neck and sharp collar. “And I know yours does for me as well.” A kiss.  _ “Have me.” _ Another. “Let me feel you again, so we can be joined in full, as long as we’re allowed.”

 

“You’re too wonderful to object to,” Andronikos sighed, hands finding perch around Venereth’s hips, pulling him down as he could feel wet heat encompassing him once more, still slick and aroused with the experience of their lovemaking, but loose enough that there was no familiar sting as there had been before… as if his acolyte’s body was made to be used by him. He smiled, languid, brushing hair from the younger’s face. 

 

“You’re so beautiful,” Andronikos says.

 

“I’m also too turned on for my own good,” a laugh, as Venereth sealed their lips again. “My place is at your side. Don’t forget that.”

  
_ -Fin- _


End file.
